


embolden

by magicianprince



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicianprince/pseuds/magicianprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s at his desk with his head between his hands, weighing the pros and cons of a fourth audience with the lazy king he’s just seen, when Ja’far knocks at the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	embolden

His duty to engage in foreign diplomacy, Sinbad decides (and not for the first time), is one of his least favorite parts of being the king of a successful country; of course discussing issues with his neighboring nations is good for the citizens of Sindria, but politics are delicate matters, and Sinbad’s not ashamed to admit that his interests don’t lie in being delicate with words. He’s all about movement, adventure, in seeing all the possibilities of a situation and then acting. There’s relief in ensuring the continued safety of Sindria’s residents, but debating with another monarch who clearly has less concern for his own subjects doesn’t produce any immediate results other than irritation and weariness.

He’s at his desk with his head between his hands, weighing the pros and cons of a fourth audience with the lazy king he’s just seen, when Ja’far knocks at the door. Sinbad is pretty sure it’s Ja’far, anyway. No one else tends to stop by at this hour.

“Come in,” he calls, hoping that he doesn’t sound as worn out as he feels. It’s hardly fair—he’s sure Ja’far works ten times as much as he does, and yet. And yet.

Ja’far looks the same as he usually does, which is saying something because Sinbad knows for a fact that a servant found him passed out on his desk this morning after an attempted all-nighter. “Sin, can you sign these? They’ve been ready for three days.”

“Mmm.” Sinbad eyes the bundle of scrolls in Ja’far’s hands. “Bring them over here for me, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Ja’far hands the documents over. His sharp eyes examine Sinbad closely.

Sinbad lets him do as he pleases, every action mechanical as he signs each document and then pushes it away. He looks up at the sound of Ja’far’s quiet sigh. “Something wrong?”

“I wish you’d at least read what you’re signing. I could be handing you an agreement to transfer the entire kingdom’s wealth over to me.”

Grinning despite how tired he is, Sinbad returns to the document he’d been in the middle of scribbling his name on. “I trust you, Ja’far.”

His advisor’s only response to that is silence. Ah, well. Sinbad hadn’t really been expecting a reply. He finishes with the last scroll, rolling it up again neatly, and then rests his chin on his palm, turning slightly to peer up at Ja’far. “You should go to bed early tonight.”

“I could say the same to you,” says Ja’far, not making any promises.

Sinbad watches as he begins gathering up the documents, obviously planning on finishing everything before dawn. Huffing out a breath, the king reaches out to curl his fingers around Ja’far’s thin wrist, stopping him. “I can stand meaninglessly arguing with someone every once in a while. You should take the night off,” he insists, meeting Ja’far’s eyes.

Ja’far looks startled for a moment. He schools his expression into something more displeased just as quickly, averting his gaze. “After I finish with these.”

“You swear?”

“If it makes you feel better,” says Ja’far, sounding resigned, “I swear.”

“Come back here when you’re done,” Sinbad entreats, feeling his spirits lifting already.

“I will.”

“Without bringing your work with you.”

“I will.”

“Ready to think of me, and only me.”

“Sin,” says Ja’far warningly, cheeks heating. Sinbad smiles wider and strokes his thumb over the inside of Ja’far’s wrist. Looking scandalized, Ja’far takes his wrist back and begins picking up all of the scrolls again, tucking them deftly under one arm.

“One more thing,” says Sinbad.

“Yes?” Turning towards him without a hint of wariness, Ja’far clearly isn’t expecting the brush of Sinbad’s fingers against the back of his neck, under his keffiyeh, nor the way that a second later they push at him just enough to tug him down to Sinbad’s level.

He certainly isn’t expecting the kiss that follows.

Sinbad keeps it slow and careful, the way he knows Ja’far secretly likes, and is rewarded when Ja’far relaxes and leans into it, allowing Sinbad to ease his mouth over his advisor’s more fully. He’s not aiming for anything more than this, not right now, and after a few seconds he releases Ja’far with a grin, carding his fingers through the hair at the back of Ja’far’s head before completely letting go.

“I’ll see you later,” he says, cheerfully.

Ja’far nods, straightening up again, and exits the room in an embarrassed hurry. Sinbad watches him leave; the lazy king is at the very back of his mind now.

At least for the moment, he has far more important things to think about.


End file.
